by Allie Gail
“Hot damn, I’m freezing my pecker off out there!” Snatching off his work gloves, Rob tossed them on the desk and rubbed his hands in front of the electric space heater.
“What kind of looney would come out looking for a Christmas tree in weather like this?” I marveled between chattering teeth.
“No one. That’s why we’re closing early.”
“Yes! Thank God.” Standing, I slammed the book shut and stuck it in my backpack just as the door banged open again and Mr. Crawford blew in with the wind.
“Whew-wee! Good thing it’s not snowing - the snowmen would get frostbite on their fannies.” He waggled his bushy eyebrows and I grinned. With his white hair and roly-poly shape, he could have passed for Frosty himself. All he needed was a corncob pipe.
“Heard we might get some late tomorrow,” Rob commented.
“Hope we don’t get too much.” Opening one of the desk drawers next to me, the elderly man scrounged around until he located a partially crushed pack of cigarettes. Balancing one between his lips, he patted the pockets of his coveralls and jacket fruitlessly. “Got a light on you?”
“I don’t,” I told him, even though I wasn’t sure which one of us he was asking. “I think Rob does.”
“Not anymore. I lost mine. I think there’s a box of matches in the middle drawer.” He leaned over to switch off the space heater. “Anything else you need me to do before I leave?”
“No, you go on and take this young lady home. I don’t think we’ll get any more customers tonight.”
“All right. See you tomorrow then.” Shoving his hands back into his gloves, he picked up my backpack and ushered me outside into the biting cold.
Neither of us said anything for a while as we waited for the Tahoe’s interior to warm up. There was only one thought running through my mind, and it was about as welcome as a case of botulism.
“You lost your lighter?” My question was barely audible. Probably because I didn’t want to ask it.
“Not exactly.” Glancing over his shoulder, he backed out onto the bumpy dirt road. “I got rid of it.”
“What, you mean on purpose? You threw it away?”
“I did.” He smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but notice how upbeat and confident he looked. “Finally figured it was time to let go of the past, once and for all. I have no reason to hold on to reminders. Some things, some people, don’t need to be remembered. They’re better off forgotten.”
Relaxing, I smiled back at him. “I think your therapist would be proud of you.”
“Considering this is the first time in my life I’ve ever been able to look to the future with any kind of optimism, I’d say you’re probably right.”
“You’re sure in a good mood for someone who was just bitching about his wang being frozen off,” I joked, relieved to have the matter of the lighter cleared up. It never occurred to me to doubt his explanation. Not at the time.
“I got some good news. Did you know Mr. Crawford’s son owns a computer repair shop in town?”
“C&T Computers - that’s his son?”
“Yep. He wants me to come to work for him after the holidays. Then full time during the summer, after graduation.”
“Hey, that’s great!”
“Yeah…if I get into FSU, hopefully he’ll let me keep working for him part time while I go to college.”
“That would work out perfect. I really hope you get accepted. I hope we both do.”
“I don’t see why we wouldn’t. We both have kickass GPA’s. Don’t know about you but personally I nailed my SAT’s...”
Hearing a faint buzz, I dug through the pocket of my coat and checked the incoming text on my phone. It was from Dad: Flight arrangements taken care of. Call you later. Love you!
I quickly responded: YOU ROCK! <3 U2!
“You’re not the only one with good news,” I announced. “Guess who’s gonna be traveling to the booming metropolis of Greenville, Illinois?”
“Um…Larry Adams.”
“Don’t make me barf. No - Dad managed to reserve you a seat!”
“Cool. Now wait a second - you guys aren’t sticking me in the cargo hold in one of those pet carriers, are you?”
“How’d you guess?”
He laughed at my serious expression. “Let’s hope it’s a short flight then. So your mom OK’d this?”
“I just emailed her a little while ago. It should be fine.” I couldn’t imagine either her or Stanley having an issue with it. Especially knowing Rob had recently lost his family and had nowhere else to go.
“Wonder if she’ll remember me.”
“She’ll never recognize you, that’s for sure!”
“Have I changed that much?”
“You filled out. You used to be skinny.”
“Yeah? Well, you used to be flat-chested. So there.”
“Hey! What happened to letting go of the past?”
Even in the dark, I could see his mossy eyes twinkling. “There are a few things worth remembering.”
After we got home, Rob went to hop in the shower and I headed for my own room with the intention of taking a bath. But while I slowly peeled off the layers of winter clothes, my mind began to wander off in a racy direction. I kept picturing him naked in the shower, scrubbing that hot body of his. And I began to toy with the notion of trying something I’d never had the nerve to do before.
The closer I got to his bathroom, the clearer I could hear his raucous singing over the sound of running water. Giggling into my hand, I paused to listen. The lyrics, what I could make out of them, sounded familiar - something about washing something away. Oh wait, it was Chalk Outline. I had it on my iTunes playlist.
He was lathering a bar of soap between his hands when I opened the shower door. The singing abruptly ceased as he jerked his head my way, surprised to see me standing there naked, watching him. Smiling innocently, I stepped into the hot sauna inside.
“Well. Hello.”
“Hi.” I brazenly looked him up and down, shaking my head at the virile sight of wet, soapy muscles. “Mm…have mercy.”
“Like what you see, babydoll?” He cocked an eyebrow and grinned.
“Oh, yeah. I do.” Sliding both arms around his waist, I rubbed my breasts against his hard, slick chest. The soap slipped from his grasp and bounced off the shower tiles, left to melt in the drain while he found something more appealing to hold. Namely, me.
“Glad you could join me,” he said, turning me so I was directly underneath the soothing warm spray. Water streamed down my face as he kissed me and I wondered if anyone had ever drowned this way. Because I couldn’t breathe but I didn’t want to stop kissing him. He was already standing at full attention and I leaned forward, lifting one knee to grind myself against him while he balanced me with his hands.
Shoving him backward a bit, I pushed a handful of drenched hair away from my face and looked up at him. “I believe someone here put in a request for a naughty girl.”
His eyes clouded over, dark with desire. “Hell yes, baby,” he assured me in a husky voice. “Are you here to deliver? Because this is definitely the right address.”
“I just have to know one thing first. Have you been a good boy?”
“Oh, sweetheart…good, bad - I’ll be anything you want me to be.”
With the jet of hot water beating down against my back, I knelt in front of him. His eyes fluttered shut and he threw his head back with a soft groan.
“Have mercy!”
It never fails.
The first dry run rehearsal is always a disaster. That’s the way it’s always been, no matter where you are or what the venue is. Very little gets accomplished. The younger students are more interested in chasing one another up and down the length of the auditorium than in paying attention to instructions. Inevitably some piece of scenery manages to either collapse, tip over or get plowed into by those same hyper kids. The music never works right. No one knows where they’re supposed to be. Chaos reigns. By the end of
it all, the person in charge winds up looking like they’re desperate for a handful of Tylenol and a good stiff drink.
Today was no exception.
René and I assisted as much as we could by helping the little ones with their cues and finding their places onstage. Even so, by the time the mice, angels and soldiers were dismissed, Miss Andrews seemed about ready to throw her clipboard to the ground and jump up and down on it. Personally, I found the whole thing entertaining. I did feel a bit sorry for her though. With the performance only nine days away, she was under a lot of stress.
At least the snowflake scene went fairly smoothly. We ran through it only twice before moving on to act two. After that I settled into one of the seats way in the back so I could get some homework done while waiting on René. She’d offered me a ride home if I didn’t mind waiting, which I didn’t. There was no point making Rob leave work if he didn’t have to.
Before getting started, I used my iPhone to check my emails. Mom had responded to mine, confirming that she and Stanley would be delighted to have my “guest” come for Christmas. She also wanted to know what size he was. Guess she wanted to make sure he had something under the tree. I’d already planned to bring his gift from me along on the trip, but I was sure he’d appreciate some new clothes. Having to start from scratch after the fire wiped out his belongings, he didn’t exactly have an extensive wardrobe.
My attention was divided between the calculus book on my knees and the Arabian dance onstage when a voice behind my head nearly gave me a heart attack.
“Hello there, princess.”
Jumping, I twisted around in my seat to find Riley sitting directly behind me, chortling in delight at the way he’d startled me. His appearance shocked me in more ways than one. It had been less than a week since I’d last seen him, but in those five days it looked as if he’d shed fifteen pounds.
“What the hell are you doing sneaking around back there?” I snapped over the recording of Tchaikovsky.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” It was obvious he wasn’t sorry - he was still grinning like a jackass.
“What are you doing here? Besides taking ten years off my life!” It was a bad choice of words, but I didn’t think about that until after they came out.
“Just thought I’d stop by and say hello.”
“How’d you even know I was here?”
He shrugged evasively. When I continued to scowl at him, he finally rolled his eyes and confessed, “My uncle’s a professor at the college here. Happy?”
Closing the textbook, I placed it on top of my backpack in the seat next to me, wondering if I should call someone. That didn’t make much sense though, did it - he’d been cleared. Hadn’t he? Still, I’d agreed not to talk to him.
Leaning forward, he propped his forearms over the back of my seat and clasped his hands together. “So how’s life, princess? Everything good? Tell me, is senior year living up to your expectations?”
The sarcasm in his tone unnerved me, and with his close proximity the sour aroma of beer practically smacked me in the face. Great - that was all I needed. “You smell like a freaking brewery! How much have you had to drink?”
“Not nearly enough,” he replied, gazing at me intently.
I started stuffing my books into the backpack, preparing to go join the other girls who were sitting closer to the stage. “Why are you here?”
“I just thought I should come by and thank you personally. For being kind enough to share everything I said to you with the police chief. That was real nice of you. Can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”
Oh, son of a bitch… “What do you want, an apology? I didn’t really have any choice in the matter. I had to. I’m sorry if it caused you any grief.”
“Grief?” His eyes narrowed into angry slits. “Grief? My life has gone to shit! I have. No. Future! Do you understand that? From now on, no matter where I go or what I try to do, this is always gonna follow me. I’m always gonna be that guy who everyone thinks got away with murder. I had an alibi, but nobody wanted to believe it. My prints were nowhere to be found at the scene, but nobody cared. It won’t make a difference that the baby’s not mine. No matter what the evidence suggests - I was already tried, convicted and now everyone’s just hoping I’ll blow my own fucking head off!”
“Come on, you know that’s not true. Give it some time. It’s only been a few days. Once they find out who it was -”
“And what if they don’t?” He began to tap his fingers absently on the back of the seat. “Funny how nobody’s looking at your pyro-loving boyfriend as a suspect. Everybody knows he roasted his parents while they slept in their beds.”
I sucked in my breath sharply. “That is pure bullshit! It was faulty wiring - he had nothing to do with it!”
“Sure. Right. Faulty wiring. So rule him out then. Where was he Saturday night around ten or eleven? Was he with you?”
I made the mistake of hesitating for a microsecond before telling him, “Yes. He was at home with me all night.”
The smirk that crawled over his lips made me want to slug him. “Now see, the fact that you didn’t answer right away would be enough to tell me you might not be giving me the whole honest truth here. You wouldn’t by any chance be trying to cover up for him, would you?”
“I have no reason to lie!”
“Then why are you?” His eyes flashed triumphantly. “Because I just happen to know he was filling the tank of that SUV of yours downtown around ten. And you weren’t with him. You wanna know how I know that?”
I glared at him hatefully.
“Because I fucking saw him. My buddy’s apartment building is right across the street from the store.”
“So he stopped for gas on the way home from work - so what?”
“Crawford’s closes at nine. I checked. Feed someone else your bullshit, honey. ’Cause I ain’t buyin’ it.” Suddenly aware of my furious expression, he lowered his voice to a syrupy sweet purr. “Look here, princess. All I’m doing is trying to review all the options. Just stop for a minute and think about it. Jordan used to hang out with him and his friends all the time, didn’t she? Even dressed like him, from what I heard. I mean, that was before my time, but one thing I do know is that they once had a relationship.”
“They didn’t have a relationship,” I argued. “You’re talking about one isolated incident that happened two years ago.”
“Really, Sara? How can you be sure? Have you been with him every single minute of the day? How do you know he hasn’t been gettin’ a little on the side? Or maybe even before you got here - say, sometime back in July or early August? Could be that was his little oopsie-daisy she was carrying. You’re the one who brought up the necklace she was wearing. How many other guys has she screwed whose names started with an ‘R’? ’Cause I can’t think of any. And I knew everything about her.”
“Obviously you didn’t know nearly as much as you thought!” I snatched up my backpack and started making my way down the aisle, unwilling to listen to any more. He wasn’t quite done though. He had one last nasty remark to fire at my back.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger here. I’m just trying to help. Wouldn’t want you to end up like Jordan, now would we?”
27
When you love someone, you don’t want to believe the worst about them. No matter how much evidence is dropped in your lap, no matter how many smoking guns you pick up off the floor, you keep coming up with excuses and telling yourself there’s a logical explanation for everything. That what you’re stumbling over is a trail of random coincidences. And all the flashing signs, they just point to a road that leads nowhere.
You trust your instincts. You blindly follow your heart. Because to believe anything else will shatter it.
But at some point reality sets in and you need answers. You want to know what’s at the end of that road.
I’d like to be able to say with a hundred percent certainty that I had no misgivings. That I wasn’t waiting impatientl
y for him to get home that night just so I could demand that he put those nagging doubts to rest.
I’d like to.
But I can’t.
So when Rob walked in the house sometime after nine, I was waiting - not to interrogate him but simply to gauge his reaction to one very simple question. I barely gave him time to get in the door. He had just closed it behind him and was resetting the alarm when I cornered him.
“Where did you go Saturday night?”
I was prepared for surprise, possibly even annoyance, but not for the strangely deadpan look he gave me. I’d sprung this on him out of the blue, and yet he seemed somehow to have expected it.
“Where’s this coming from?” Unwrapping his scarf, he hung it with his coat on the hook by the door, then leaned down to untie his boots before kicking them off.
“I just want to know. You never told me where you were that night.”
“I see. And now all of a sudden it’s imperative that you know.”
“That’s right. All of a sudden it is.” The cold air he’d brought in with him chilled me through my cotton nightgown and I wrapped myself in my arms, shivering.
Without speaking, Rob strolled over to the fireplace and opened the damper. I watched him suspiciously as he started stacking split logs on the grate.
“What are you doing?”
“Building a fire. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be good at? Starting fires?”
It was stated so matter-of-factly, with no detectable rancor, that I was at a loss as to how to respond. He left the room and when he returned a minute later with a newspaper in his hand, I was still standing uncertainly in the same spot. Wadding up several sections of the paper, he stuffed them underneath the logs along with a few pieces of kindling. Then he reached on the mantel for a box of long matches.
He looked me square in the eye as he struck one.
Turning his back on me, he leaned into the fireplace and lit the newspapers. The blaze caught up quickly. Orange flames began to devour the paper ravenously, leaving behind a sooty pile of glowing black embers.